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blackandwhiteandcolours
I take pictures – I read books – Daily photos – Daily quotes
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The storm arrives at half-past noon.
The impossible is impossible until the very moment it is not.
Everybody is asking questions these days.
It occurs to me this is a sign of the times.
It looks very much like a camel to me.
It must be well beyond midnight.
Who on earth knows the time?
You know what you look like?
When the light hits it differently, even familiar places turn strange.
Might I recommend a quiet walk in the woods?
Everyone wanting something for nothing.
So there you go, that’s what it was for.
She suspects she is safe.
At about this time of night, the village ducks go insane.
It was important to me once. It’s not any more.
The world keeps turning and it has carried them with it.
But there we are and that’s how it is.
It’s down to us to keep going.
There we are. Simple as that.
We all fall into darkness.
How strange this all is.
But right now I’m enjoying this particular something.
Maybe later we’ll do something different.
You know what I mean.
We are doing something.
Do you want to do something?
Stand still. Be quiet.
It’s rather good so far.
I do hope it’s amusing.
That does rather strike me as an admission of defeat.
You never know what people are like after dark.
But the pictures are glorious so she must not complain.
They all live happily ever after.
What happens in the end?
We have adventures, of course.
But what do you do when you’re out in the forest?
It’s a different story I’m telling.
Is that really true or are you telling a story?
I’ve been far away. I’ve been to a magical forest.
I guess that what we do now is that we go check it out.
And before that, of course, he was nothing at all.
He is a tired shape on a country lane.
If he can steady himself, he may yet survive; stranger things have happened.
It’s always straining at the reins.
But now his senses are scrambled.
Others think he is good.
He normally does know what he’s doing.
By rights he should know what he is doing.
The movement of bodies is as stately as a waltz.
The world is confusing, but the forest is not.
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